


If there's a shadow hanging over our fate (we won't forget that deep inside we're the same)

by MYuzuki



Series: No matter what’s in front of me (I’ll keep fighting til I’ve won) [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XV, Kingsglaive
Genre: Angst, Because i think it's safe to say that Nyx is having some issues right now, Gen, I honestly do not know what to tag this as?, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ring of the Lucii (Final Fantasy XV), Time Travel Fix-It, this drabble is much longer than the others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26285902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYuzuki/pseuds/MYuzuki
Summary: "The King wishes to speak to you," Cor says, and Nyx tries not to flinch.
Series: No matter what’s in front of me (I’ll keep fighting til I’ve won) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897525
Comments: 12
Kudos: 155





	If there's a shadow hanging over our fate (we won't forget that deep inside we're the same)

**If there's a shadow hanging over our fate (we won't forget that deep inside we're the same)**

* * *

"The King wishes to speak to you," Cor says, and Nyx tries not to flinch.

It's been two days since Drautos had been exposed as a traitor to Lucis, just long enough for Nyx to start feeling a bit stir-crazy from being cooped up in his hospital room all the time.

That doesn't mean he wants to go talk to Regis himself just for a change of scenery, though, and he's pretty sure Cor picks up on that from whatever pole-axed expression he's wearing.

"You don't wish to speak to him," Cor infers, gaze narrowed as he watches Nyx's face carefully.

Nyx tips one shoulder in a shrug. "Why does he want to talk with little ol' me?" he asks instead, sidestepping that verbal landmine as best he can given the circumstances, because saying _The last time I saw the King was when Glauca shoved a sword through his back_ is probably not a good idea.

(Well, there was also that moment after he'd put on the Ring, when the Kings of Old had been judging his worth and Regis himself had attempted to vouch for his good intentions from beyond the grave, but mentioning _that_ would raise even more questions that Nyx isn't prepared to answer.

A lot of his life seems to revolve around not answering questions lately, and Nyx doesn't have words to describe how frustrating that is. Worth it, in the end, because Insomnia and its people are safe, and Nyx and _his_ people are safe, but there's still an itch underneath his skin from not being able to just lay everything he knows out so that he's not the only person bearing the crushing knowledge of that painful, dreadful future.)

Cor gives a slight snort. "Well, you did single-handedly uncover a high-ranking traitor in our midst," he replies, tone dust dry. "I think it's safe to assume that he wants to thank you."

Nyx can't quite help the cringe he gives, and barely restrains a heavy sigh. "He doesn't need to _thank_ me," he mutters, something that might be embarrassment or guilt or something else entirely churning in his stomach.

"Ulric-"

"I didn't do it for his _thanks_ ," Nyx snaps, irritated by the very idea of it. "I did it because-" He cuts himself off with a muffled curse, swallowing down all the words that want to crawl out of his mouth so he doesn't spill the truth out into the sterilized air of the hospital room. "Because it was the right thing to do," he says instead, well aware of how lame an answer that is. "I couldn't stand by and do nothing, not once…not once I knew," he adds, which has more truth to it even if it's nowhere close to the full story.

Cor, for his part, peers intently at Nyx for a moment before tipping his head in acknowledgment. "Whatever your motivations," he says, "the King wishes to speak to you."

Nyx doesn't even bother trying to contain his groan, because he has a feeling that Cor won't judge him for it; the Marshal is surprisingly cool like that, although Nyx has a feeling he'd get laughed at uproariously if he voiced that opinion anywhere outside of his head. "At least let me shower first, for fuck's sake," he grumbles, swinging out of his hospital bed and striding towards the bathroom.

"Take as long as you need," Cor says, and his tone is perfectly polite on the surface but Nyx swears he can hear a note of amusement underneath all the stoicism.

In the end, Nyx takes just under ten minutes to shower, because while the still-healing wound in his shoulder makes getting washed up a bit more of a process than normal, he's still a soldier trained to peak efficiency and he's not about to waste time taking a long shower when the _King_ is waiting to speak to him.

He gets dressed into one of the spare uniforms that Libertus had brought from Nyx's apartment the day before in anticipation of his upcoming release from the hospital, and then allows Cor to usher him out of the building and back out into the world.

He takes a moment to take in the sight of the city when they step outside, soaking in the sights and the smells of Insomnia because he didn't expect to ever see the city whole and alive again.

Didn't expect to see the city again at _all,_ really, given that fact that he'd died in the middle of its ruins, the peace of that sunrise at odds with the destruction he'd been surrounded by.

"Ulric?" Cor calls then, in a tone of voice that suggests it's not the first time he's tried getting Nyx's attention.

Nyx shakes his head, vaguely embarrassed. "Sorry," he says sheepishly. "I just…" He tries and fails to put what he's feeling into words, then gives up and shrugs. "It's good to back, that's all."

Cor gives him that narrow, searching look again but doesn't comment, instead gesturing for him to get in the passenger side of the very fancy car that's parked at the curb.

Nyx slides inside without argument, and one very smooth drive through the city later they're pulling up outside the Citadel and Nyx has to work hard to keep control of his emotions as all the memories of his last visit to the crown jewel of the kingdom come crowding into his mind.

Then they're walking, walking, and walking some more, until they reach the main throne room where Regis is waiting for them.

It's just Regis and his Shield, Nyx notices, and can't help the little ping of curiosity that springs to life because it's a rare occasion indeed that sees the King without his full inner circle present, snotty nobles included.

He's not sure what it signifies, that _his_ visit to the King is what merits the absence of an audience of onlookers, but it makes him twitchy on general principle.

"Nyx Ulric," King Regis says as they stride into the room, standing up form his throne and descending the stairs. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Nyx replies, bowing automatically.

"It seems I owe you a great debt," Regis says next, "for discovering Glauca's terrible deception."

"You don't owe me anything, Your Majesty," Nyx responds, the words tumbling out before he can even really think of what to say. "I was only doing my duty."

( _In another life, I couldn't save you_ , he thinks, and very deliberately shreds that thought into pieces and banishes it so it doesn't slip out and betray him at the worst possible moment.)

"Nevertheless," Regis goes on, giving a smile that's tired but kind as he approaches Nyx and reaches out a hand as if to clap him on the shoulder, "I wanted to express my gratitude for your actions. You are-" He breaks off as the ring on his hand begins glowing, and looks down at his hand with a faint frown. "That's interesting," he murmurs.

Nyx, meanwhile, knowing what he does about that ring (specifically knowing about the ancient kings who are bound to it for eternity), takes an immediate and very deliberate step back, away from the king and the Ring of the Lucii.

He can feels Cor's eyes on his back, watching him, trying to figure him out. It makes the back of his neck itch, even as a trickle of power thrums in his veins, sparking and sizzling in response to whatever's going on with Regis and the Ring.

Nyx suddenly has the terrible, sinking feeling that the Kings of Old are communing with Regis right now; he's all too familiar with how time freezes for the one wearing the ring, after all, knows how everything slows to a crawl and an eternity can pass in the blink of an eye when the ancient kings are speaking.

He doesn't know what they might be saying to Regis, doesn't know how much they know about who he is and what he's done. Doesn't know if they can sense the echoes of their own power running through his body, if they understand the _why_ of it.

Even just the sight of the ring, glowing with arcane power, is enough to drag his thoughts back to _before_ , to the moment where he'd put the Ring of the Lucii on his own hand for lack of any better options.

_Show yourselves_ , he'd demanded, and they had, powerful and arrogant and literally larger than life.

_How long will you do nothing whilst Insomnia burns_ , he'd hissed, and been scolded for his supposed shortsightedness, even as a Regis that only he remembers had spoken on his behalf, urging the others to give him due consideration despite his lack of royal blood.

_We will weigh your warrior's worth_ , they'd said, capitulating ever so slightly, _but our boon does not come cheap._

_The cost is a life_ , they'd declared next, and had tried to make him choose between sacrificing Libertus and sacrificing Lunafreya.

Their initial offer had been unacceptable, the price they'd named a cost he wasn't willing to pay; he wasn't the sort of man to sacrifice someone else, not like that.

(Not when he could sacrifice himself instead, and let the people he cared about live on to see the future he was fighting for.)

_No_ , he'd told them, and then, fierce and defiant, _To hell with your power. I'm not here for it._

They'd given it to him anyway, in the end, although he's not quite sure what made them decide to do it; he wouldn't have expected calling out the spirits of ancient rulers on their dickish attitudes and lack of empathy for the people of Insomnia to win him very many points, and yet they'd allowed him to wield their magic and summon the Old Wall to life one final time.

He's dragged from his memories by Cor, who steps up beside him with a murmured, "Ulric," in that same tone of voice as before, as if he'd said his name a time or two already and not received a response.

Nyx gives a faint twitch, not quite a flinch but something close, and takes a slow, careful breath. "Sorry," he manages to say after a moment, voice choked with the tangle of emotions surging in his chest. "I just…" He swallows hard. "I think I should go," he says, voice low and rough. "I…I'm not feeling very well," he says, and it doesn't even feel like a lie, not with the memories of a time nonexistent crowding in at the edges of his mind as a power that's not his but suddenly _is_ his burns in his veins, an echo of what he'd wielded in that last desperate battle.

"Please excuse me," Nyx says now, polite out of habit as he bows to the King, who is still staring down at the glowing ring, expression somewhere between puzzled and thoughtful.

Then he pivots on his heel and all but flees the Citadel.


End file.
